Chains
by Azriel Aquila
Summary: Hadrian has always heard things, known things. Left alone in an orphanage, Hadrian grows jaded and cynical. However, as he grows, so do his own power and the greed of muggles. When the wizarding world is threatened to collapse, Hadrian must learn to control his powers before they are used to control him. AU Slash Dark!Harry
1. Chapter 1

**{Summary}: SLASH **The world is suspended by a web of chains, it keeps everything in order and restrained. People are connected by chains too, my boy; they control who we meet, how we think and what we do. They are the very order of life, but you, my boy...Your different. You have no chains. AU

**{Disclaimer}:** I own nothing in the Harry Potter world; I do however own this plot. Any similarities to people and/or other fanfic's are purely coincidental. Please do not flame, I appreciate constructive criticism but I am the first to admit that my ego and self-esteem are not particularly large and easily bruised.

**~{Chains}~**

While I thought that I was learning how to live, I have been learning how to die. ~Leonardo Da Vinci

**~{Chains}~**

Chapter One -

It was at midnight that the once majestic clock tower was finally engulfed by the water, it's delicate ruins and secrets forever hidden from the outside world, with it's only memorial being a large, daunting shadow that was quickly disappearing in to the great depths of the ocean.

The boat that rested nearby, rested uneasily as it's lone passenger looked on at the now open waters, staring unseeingly where a now gaping hole in history had once resided. Under his branded arm, was a book.

"...And with the might of his power, the Gods bound the retched city, with fire in their eyes and ice on their lips, and dragged her down in to the pits of the abyss..."

Ink leaked across the page as the quill slid along in slow, paced lines, reflective in the full moon's gaze.

"...Age is irrelevant..."

"...Power is...power is..."

He licked his lips hesitantly, before he drew a thick line across his previous words, uncaring of the shadow befalling him.

"The mind is the key, and the body the vessel..."

His fingers were numb from the cold.

"...And the Chains control it all."

**~{Chains}~**

Jennifer Hart held her folder tightly to her chest as she followed the women in front of her. Her heels clicked distinctively through out the corridor, a black sheep in a sea of plain flats. The flawless paint on the wooden walls was a persian blue sort of colour, only just several shades darker from the royal blue coloured carpet. Despite the rich colouring, she noticed there was little to no furniture other then the odd chair and settee as well as the occasional vase.

She shifted nervously as she walked,_ God, this place might as well house the Queen of England or something._

The women in front of her - Hilda, Jennifer reminded herself - stopped abruptly, turning to face Jennifer. Hilda was rather plain looking, Jennifer noted absently. Her brown hair was pulled in to a tight pony-tail and her eyes where a dark hazel-ly colour; her lips where drawn in to a tight lipped frown.

"I'm going to warn you now," Hilda started, reaching in to her pocket, "This ones an odd one, a real piece of work in my opinion, don't be too freaked out if he starts sprouting utter nonsense at you. Why just the other day he started ranting at one of the new interns about how her boyfriend was cheating on her, poor thing burst in to tears on the spot." As she continued to speak, Hilda twisted a small bronze key in to the door knob, unlocking the door.

The room behind the door was barely lit, with only the sparse beams of light creeping through the blinds across the window perforating the objects in the room.

"Boy! What are you doing sitting in the dark!" Hilda barked, reaching up the wall searchingly.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jennifer noticed a small figure twitch in recognition at the nickname - she was certain it was not one borne from affection.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes." The voice was young, Jennifer thought to herself, young and sweet sounding. It had a certain hum to it that was practically musical; it was also rather high.

"Hush up." Hilda snarled in return, her hands still occupied with searching the wall. "And get up boy, you have company."

"What a loving reply to my heart felt welcome, Hilda." The child replied, complying with Hilda's blunt commands. He stood up from his forward crouch in the corner of the room furthest from the door - a fact Jennifer absently took note of to mention later in her report - and moved towards the centre of the room before stopping just in front of them.

Finally, a click was heard from behind Jennifer, and light flooded the room, lighting it up like a mid-summer bonfire. With the sudden change of visibility, Jennifer got her first look at her patient.

_He's small_, was the first thing she thought as she looked at him, shorter then she had expected him to be by several inches, especially seeing as he was nearly eleven, an age where most boys were beginning to shoot up like sprouts, but he had such a petit frame that it looked fully proportional. Angles were predominant in both the boy's face and on his body, with a surprisingly sparse amount of baby fat still lingering on his cheeks, and next to none else where on his body. The boy's hair was longer then usual, curling around the base of his neck loosely, and was jet black. Jennifer found her self blinking stupidly as she caught sight of pure emerald eyes set in a face with skin paler then any one's she had ever seen.

Even when Hilda turned to speak with her, Jennifer found her self hard pressed to look away from the admittedly beautiful boy in front of her.

"So, do you want to interview the boy here, or would you prefer to use one of the common rooms?" Hilda asked her, as if ignoring the boy who in return raised an arched eyebrow, accompanied by a slight upward tilt of his lips. But it wasn't a smile, Jennifer noticed.

"We'll take the common room upstairs." The boy spoke in her place, his voice lilting as he practically danced past Jennifer and Hilda, stepping out in to the corridor.

Hilda followed him out, her arm placed defiantly on her waist as she looked at the smaller boy, a sneer once again plastered firmly on to her face. "I didn't ask you, you little brat."

"But shouldn't I be in my most comfortable setting seeing as I'm the one being interviewed, dear Hilda."

"Listen here you little-"

"The child is correct Miss Hilda," Jennifer cut in, eager to place as much distance between the boy, whose eye's appeared to be dancing with mirth, and Hilda, whose face was quickly blooming a furious shade of rouge and was practically frothing at the mouth, as possible. "plus, seeing as he would already be out, I could easily escort him to the dinning room afterwards and save you fetching him."

Beside her, the boy hummed provokingly.

"Fine," Hilda spat, "but don't let me here anything about you running off else where like last time boy!" The child turned to face Hilda and placed his hand to his forehead, in a mocking army salute. "Wouldn't dream of it Hilda darling."

With a final huff at the boy and a cautious sharp eye at Jennifer, Hilda turned sharply on her heel and swiftly retreated along the corridor, her foot steps heavy and thundering as she went.

With out turning her body to him, Jennifer gazed down at the child beside her, watching silently as his eyes followed Hilda down the corridor from beneath his long eye lashes. When she finally turned around the corner, the boy's piercing gaze snapped to meet Jennifer's, drawing a startled gasp from her. The boy smiled disarmingly, "Let's get moving then, shall we?"

Jennifer found her self nodding, and followed the boy silently as he walked swiftly through the corridors.

The orphanage, Placid Waters Orphanage, was a large building situated several miles from the outskirts London in the rural country side, which had once been a stately manor home to a rich earl and his family. However, since then it had lost much of it aristocratic grace due to lack of funding and general lack of up-keeping. It did however, still possess a daunting presence, that made it breath taking to walk through.

As she followed the youth in front of her, Jennifer could not help but gape at some of the corridors. Where as the floor down stares had been scarcely furnished and barely decorated, these corridors where richly decorated with wall length paintings and delicate vases spanning the entire length of corridor.

When the boy finally stopped, he poked his head through the door and looked around, before his lips once again tilted and he stepped through.

"Have a seat." The boy chimed as he placed his self on one of two opposing settees, both with numerous pillows.

Stepping carefully in to the room, Jennifer followed his example and attempted to sit as delicately as possible on the settee, but eventually found her self falling backwards ungracefully as the settee tried to engulf her whole.

The boy giggled.

Blushing, Jennifer cleared her throat and opened her folder to a clean, unused page and clicked her pen, and poised it to write.

_Okay_, She thought to her self, _ready_.

"Hello," She started, "you may or may not know but just in case, my name is Jennifer Hart, and I will be seeing you for the foreseeable future. I'll be like a diary, you could say - you can tell me any thing you want and I won't tell any one. The best part is that unlike a diary, I'll be able to respond and try to help you figure out what ever it is that's bothering you." She finished, mentally assessing the boy's reaction to her well rehearsed speech that her bathroom mirror received just about every day.

The boy tilted his head. "Jennifer..." He rolled the name on his tongue, unsettling Jennifer slightly as he repeated it twice more. "Jenny...There are a couple of Jenny's here."

"Oh? And what do you think of them?" She asked, urging him on in to a conversation.

"Them? They're okay I guess; it's a bit depressing that they all have the same name though."

Jennifer frowned, her lips pursing as she quickly wrote the quote down for later analysis. "Depressing? How so?"

The boy didn't reply. Instead, he breathed deeply and looked around the room. For several minutes, Jennifer studied the boy as he continued to do so, watching as he absent mindedly traced patterns in to his bare thigh. His shorts only reached to his mid-thighs.

"Every thing in this room," He began, startling Jennifer out of her stupor by the suddenness of it, "every thing is undoubtedly unique. Either because they are a single version, or they are simply hand crafted. But people who share the same name," He licked his lips before continuing, "It's kind of sad, because no matter how hard you try, or how different you are, people will always, even if it's just subconsciously, they will always compare you."

Jennifer sat still across from the boy, staring at him with a heavily creased forehead, her mind whirling with thoughts and questions as she watched the boy cross his legs on the settee and continue to trace patterns in to his legs.

"Do any of the other boys here share a name with you?" She prodded him further, eager to understand him.

The child looked at her as he spoke. "Not really. There are about four other Harry's in this orphanage, one of them is my age in fact. But I prefer to be called Hadrian, and none of the boy's here are called Hadrian."

_Hadrian_, she thought to her self. Finally, a name for the face.

"Hadrian," She said aloud, "that's a nice name."

The b- Hadrian looked at her, his eye brows twitching slightly, as did the corner of his mouth. "Didn't you know my name?" He asked her, his voice thick with amusement.

Jennifer smiled at him imploringly, her nose scrunching slightly. "I try to learn what I can from the person first before I look at their file. I think it stop's any previous bias leaking through."

Hadrian smirked at her. "It's a bit unprofessional for a diagnosis, don't you think."

Jennifer Hart stilled, her pen frozen in mid sentence as her mind replayed Hadrian's words.

_Diagnosis_.

He knew.

"Did you think I didn't know?" Hadrian asked mockingly, his eyes glistening with mirth as he watched Jennifer's mouth open wordlessly. Leaning forward, Hadrian stared her in the eye.

"Is there any thing else you want to talk about?" He asked her, tilting his head, "I mean, I wouldn't want you to hand in an inaccurate report to Madame Thristle, now would I. It could be very troublesome for me." He explained.

"But you really should learn how to hide your secrets better, you know. I mean, it didn't take even a week for your boyfriend to figure out you were sleeping with his dad."

Her folder fell from her lap as Jennifer shot up, her eyes wide.

"Now now Jenny-"

"Jennifer."

"Jenny." Hadrian's voice was suddenly clearer and much, much colder. His face blank, his usual smirk was absent.

He stared at her for several moments, titling his head every so often as if he were examining a puppy.

"It was Madame Thristle though, wasn't it." Hadrian asked, his voice was once again light and mischievous, "She's been on my case day and night ever since I've been here. Especially after that little... incident with Roger last summer."He informed her as he stood up from the settee, moving so he stood right in front of her. His hands were clasped behind his back, showing off his small sailor shorts and short sleeved white shirt combo.

"He fell off a cliff, you know." Hadrian continued, shrugging a shoulder and talking as if he was conversing about some thing as simple as the weather. "Nasty accident. He was alright I guess. Between you and me, I always found him to to be a bit of a bully." He gossiped.

Then he stilled. "Didn't your sister fall off of a cliff."

Jennifer's face grew paler as the words registered in her mind. To Hadrian, it looked as if she had rapidly aged a good twenty, maybe thirty years in the time span of a few seconds. Her wrinkles grew predominant as her eyes widened to unprecedented measures and her jaw trembled. So did her hands.

"She came running towards you, happy and boisterous..."

"Shut up." Jennifer whispered.

"...and you'd just broken up with one of your many boyfriends..."

She shook her head.

"...you actually loved him..."

Shaking her head still, she spoke louder, "Shut up."

"...but he'd fallen in love with her..."

Jennifer felt her body shake uncontrollably whilst she reverently repeated her mantra. Shut up. Shut up.

"...so you pushed her-"

"Shut up!" She screeched, "Shut up you fucking freak!"

For a moment, silence rang. Tear flowing down her face, Jennifer watched as the child before her, Hadrian, darkened with rage. His eyes grew cold and malicious, his smirk - sadistic.

Then chaos.

The windows surrounding them shattered in a synchronised mess, shards flung themselves in every direction, fierce and wild. The vases situated around the room tipped backwards and forwards dangerously. In several places, cracks ran along the wood panelled walls, throwing splinters through out the chaos as they did so. Amidst the terror, Jennifer felt a massive force collide in to her, knocking her off of her feet and head first in to the wall behind her.

In the middle of it all, Hadrian watched, his smirk restored.

**~{Chains}~**

Hadrian watched as a battered and bruised Jennifer Hart was carefully loaded in to the back an ambulance, her body littered with glass shards, coloured black and blue. She was unconscious, and according to the Paramedic currently conversing with an ashen faced Madame Thristle, would be for several weeks if not months due to a penetrating head injury; a large glass shard the size of a adults fist had in-bedded it's self in to her skull.

It was a pity, Hadrian told him self as he looked on, she had been admittedly rather pretty, even to Hadrian. A tall, willowy blond with stormy eyes and full lips, not to mention a nice pair of legs.

"What on earth were you thinking boy." Hilda spoke slowly, her words sharp and cold.

Hadrian turned around to face her.

Hilda was stood in front of the closed door, her usually tight lipped frown replaced by a fierce scowl, her clothes as pristine as ever. Hadrian smiled at her adoringly.

"You know she got what she deserved." He admonished her, his tone playful despite the nature of his words, and the conversation in general.

"Just because you got pissed at her," She spat, "does not give you the right to turn her in to bloody and battered rag doll."

Though she had finished talking, an icy rage remained in her presence as she shot forward and grabbed the blinds cord and pulled on it harshly, obscuring the view completely.

"You keep this up boy and eventually they will open their eyes, and then they'll take you and lock you away some where then throw away the key."

"I didn't know you cared-"

"For God's sake Harry, will you stop with the smart retorts, you stupid, stupid boy." Grabbing Hadrian by the shoulders she shook him with a passion as she raged, "I am trying to help you."

Hadrian pushed her away from him. "How? By separating us?" He shot at her, his child like façade dissolving beneath his rage, distorting his lovely face in to a furious scowl of his own. "You purposely acted like you did earlier to try and convince her to separate us! Don't you dare think I didn't notice. How is that supposed to help me!"

As he unload his anger at her, he felt his knees weaken and buckle beneath him. As he fell forwards, Hadrian grasped on to the taller women tightly and buried his head in to her bosom, his tears dampening her blouse.

"She'd already made up her mind by the time we got to common room." He sobbed, taking comfort in the hand that rubbed soothing circles in to his back, "she was going to separate us. She was going to have you reported for emotional abuse and neglect."

As he continued to unleash his emotions on to his only friend, Hadrian allowed him self to be moved towards the single bed in the room.

"Child," Hilda spoke softly, "you have got to learn to accept other people. Let them in."

"But I don't want to, I have you."

She chuckled humourlessly. "Your stubborn, I'll give you that boy. I swear that's the one trait I wished you hadn't inherited-"

"Hilda..." Hadrian whispered, lifting his head from her bosom, "don't."

The woman looked at him for a moment before submitting to his feeble demand."Fine."

Searching her features for a moment longer, Hadrian again lowered his head on to her chest, breathing deeply as he did so.

"You have another interview this week Harry." Hilda spoke softly, aware of his emotional weariness; there was no need to drain him furthur.

"Oh?"

"Yes," She confirmed, "Something about a scholarship to some private boarding school. Got a letter this morning asking to arrange a slight introductory with you regarding the nature of your addmittance."

Hadrian said nothing.

Looking down at the boy, Hilda watched as his eyes glazed over unseeingly before the sharpness returned a few moments later.

"What if I don't want to talk to them."

"Well you've got to boy. Promise me you'll behave."

He looked at her, lifting his head so they were almost eye to eye, sat on the bed.

"Only if you promise me something in return."

**~{Chains}~**

Hadrian blinked.

Then he blinked again.

_This women doesn't hold back_, He thought as he chuckled, flicking through the pages of the blue note book held carelessly in his hands.

Jennifer Hart really was a women of habit, her neat nature was obvious in the organised structure of her notes and penmanship.

_Hadrian shows a knowledge of the emotions shown by the people around him, but appears to lack any empathy for them._

_ Possible sociopathic tendancies are shown in his lack of empathy, as well as a possible innate sense of possessiveness that is shown via his thought's on sharing a name with others; Hadrian also rarely smiles, preferring instead to raise eyebrows and/or smirk. Very charming._

_ Possibly has antisocial personality disorder; according to files he commonly displays features of five subtypes of said disorder - covetous,reputation defending, risk taking, nomadic and malevolent._

_ Has an odd relationship with his primary carer - Hilda Marsh; separating them may prove to be a positive movement._

Harry stared at the words on the page in front of him. Hilda. That women had decided to take her from him. But that wouldn't do; no that most certainly would not do.

**~{Chains}~**

**I just want to say thank you for reading this. This is my first fanfic ever, and I'm just using this chapter as a bit of a pilot chapter. For as long as I can remember I've suffered from spontaneous plot bunnies, but when ever I've tried to sit down and plot them out, they ran off. Then this came to me and let me tell you, it, was, MASSIVE! I'm pretty certain it ate all the others!**

**I'm leaning towards this being a Slash fic but it you have a particular pairing that you really like, message me and I'll think about it, this applies for both straight pairings and slash pairings. I've not really made up my mind which is why only Harry is 'tagged'. Thanks.**


	2. Chapter 2

**{Summary}: SLASH** The world is suspended by a web of chains, it keeps everything in order and restrained. People are connected by chains too, my boy; they control who we meet, how we think and what we do. They are the very order of life, but you, my boy...Your different. You have no chains. AU

**{Disclaimer}:** I own nothing in the Harry Potter world; I do however own this plot. Any similarities to people and/or other fanfic's are purely coincidental. Please do not flame, I appreciate constructive criticism but I am the first to admit that my ego and self-esteem are not particularly large and easily bruised.

**~{Chains}~**

Insurrection is the most sacred of the rights and the most indispensable of duties. ~ Marquis de La Fayette

**~{Chains}~**

His head shot up. Hadrian hadn't realised he'd drifted off until he'd felt the strange sensation of his head jerkily falling from his stationed palm where his chin had been resting on the window pane. A large book lay open on his lap; the numbness of his legs was proof of the books size and mass.

Looking up from his dazed blinking, Hadrian looked out of the window beside him. Flawless skies of blue greeted him, and the noise generated by the children in the estates numerous gardens and lawns drifted in to his conscience.

It was roughly midday.

Looking around, Hadrian immediately discovered that he was in the library. That alone was practically an excuse in it's self as to why he had slept so late in to the day undisturbed. Possessing numerous books, tomes and articles, the library was a daunting jungle that very few of the other children dared to venture in, and those that did preferred to stow them self's away in the children's sections. None of them would have noticed him sleeping in one of the large arm chairs tucked away in the fiction section, except perhaps for old Mrs Forester, one of the estates many care taker's and the estates pseudo librarian.

The door to the far left of him opened and Hadrian jerked his head to look at it.

Julia Spear - a pretty brunette intern - was standing in the doorway with a small pile of books stacked in her arms. "Oh, Hadrian." She breathed, evidently surprised to see him.

Hadrian raised an eyebrow at her, wondering at her surprise. He spent more time in the library then he did any where else, pouring over any book or tome he could get his hands on. Then again, she was new.

Julia blushed and shook her head. "Uh-I-"

Hadrian smirked, amused by her apparent inability to talk.

Licking her lips, she tried again. "Uh-Madame Thristle was looking for you. You-Um-You weren't in your room so..." She drifted off, licking her lips again. "Some thing about another interview."

_ Oh_, Hadrian thought to him self, his eye brows furrowing together. He'd forgotten about that.

"Did she mention if they were here?" He questioned her.

"Um-I think so-"

Standing up, Hadrian closed the book and placed it on the coffee table in front of him. "Do you know where they are?"

Walking in to the room, Julia made a 'hmm' noise, a pondering look painted on her face.

"Um, probably in the drawing room." Julia said, setting her books down on to the table in the middle of room.

Not bothering to glance back at her, Hadrian swept out of the library, striding purposefully towards the drawing room.

Hadrian squinted his eyes periodically as he passed through alternating blocks of shadow and light whilst he walked purposefully through the corridor. The drawing room was one of the least visited rooms in the entire estate, despite it's originally purpose, as only Madame Thristle used it to entertain personal guests and even then it was only occasionally.

_She must really be looking to impress_, Hadrian thought as he approached the doors of the drawing room, before re-evaluating his thoughts. _Or she just really wants me gone._

_ Probably the second._

Relaxing his arms at his side, Hadrian breathed deeply before opening one of the doors and walking in to the brightly lit room.

The drawing room was as lavish as the Estate was large. the walls on all sides of the room where a dark mint green colour, though it was barely seen through the gaps between the numerous aristocratic paintings that decorated the walls. Above them, the ceiling was a pale cream with patterns that appeared to have been gilded with gold leaves. The furniture was just as rich and sophisticated as the room, if not more so.

Madame Thristle was situated on the left of the coffee table, her back painfully straight with her hands dutifully clasped in her lap. As Hadrian closed the door behind him, she looked at him with sharp, narrow eyes before standing and excusing her self from the room. As she walked passed Hadrian, she curved her head slightly and pressed the side of her mouth to his cheek.

In a low whisper, she spoke to him forcefully, "Be. Good." before opening the door and leaving, the door closing with a soft click.

Hadrian stared at the door after her for a second before moving to take her place in the arm chair, and looked at the person occupying it.

He instantly recognised why Madame Thristle had located them in the drawing room.

The woman opposite him was tall, with a severely prim face - her lips were tightly pulled in to an expression that was neither a frown nor a smile. Her hair was combed back in to a tight bun with not a single loose hair to be seen and wore a strange sort of emerald dress, not unlike the ones Hadrian had seen in some of the older paintings.

She was the exact sort of person Madame Thristle would want to impress. As he focused on her face again, Hadrian noticed that through her square spectacles she was staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, analysing him.

Finally, the stern looking women raised her chin slightly and held out her hand. Hadrian looked at it momentarily before shaking it. Withdrawing his hand, Hadrian tucked both of his hands in to his lap as he lifted his legs on to the chair and crossed them.

After a moment of silence, she spoke. "Assuming that you are aware of the nature of this appointment, I think it appropriate that I introduce myself." Her voice has as cool and precise as her face was prim and severe. "My name is Professor McGonagall and I will be one of your professors for the next several years."

She stopped for a moment and sipped her tea that had previously been placed on the coffee table, before setting it down again. Reaching in to the side of her arm chair, she pulled out a parchment of sorts and looked at it momentarily before handing it to Hadrian who took it cautiously.

It was an envelope, not the usual sort. It was heavier, and had a distinctive texture to it as well as a tan-yellow tone that was inconsistent in certain areas, but it was only noticeable close up. The writing on the front was emerald green.

Not bothering to read the address, Hadrian flipped it over only to stare at the purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H.

Carefully breaking the wax seal, Hadrian pulled out two separate letters. His lips pursed and his eye brows furrowed, Hadrian silently read the contents of the first letter.

**~*C*~ **

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizar_ds)_

Dear ,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

**~*C*~**

Hadrian read it twice again in his head, before licking his lips and quickly glancing at the women opposite him. It was short and to the point, but the implications and over all message were massive. Setting the letter to rest on his lap, Hadrian skimmed over the other; it was longer and appeared to be a list of sorts.

**~*C*~**

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of _WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS

ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK.

Yours sincerely,

Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus

Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions

**~*C*~**

Again, Hadrian read through it several times, each time more confusing then the last. The words... they were right in front of him, written in perfectly eligible script, but they just did not process in to his minds. The illusions painted by them simply refused to stick in his mind

Then, finally, as Hadrian finished the last few sentences for what was probably the seventh time; questions began to spontaneously explode inside Hadrian's head like a bonfire. He stayed silent for a few moments, licking his dry lips and trying to make sense of what question to ask first; at the moment, they all seemed of equal importance.

After several blinks and a strangled 'ugh' noise, Hadrian regained his composure and looked at the women - Professor McGonagall, he reminded himself - with wide eyes.

Professor McGonagall must have expected such a reaction, seeing as she had sat quietly through out the duration of it with out so much as twitch; she sipped her tea.

Hadrian cleared his throat softly. "Are you telling me," Hadrian started, his throat irritatingly dry from shock, "that magic is real?"

"Of course." Hadrian might as well have been talking about the weather if her tone was any thing to guess by.

Setting her cup of tea down, Professor McGonagall tilted her chin and looked at him from above the rims of her spectacles.

"Now you understand why I asked for an appointment. You, Mr Faye, are a wizard - A muggle born wizard to be factual."

"Muggle born?"

"A muggle born is a witch or wizard born to two muggle parents."

His question was instant. "What's a mugg-"

"A muggle is a person who lacks any sort of magical ability and was not born in to the magical world." Hadrian scowled momentarily as she interrupted him, but quickly reverted back to drinking in her every word, hanging on them.

"At Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall went on, "we teach you not only to use your magic, but also to control it. I'm sure you have noticed odd things happening around you, correct? Well, that is because your magic is young and untamed. During your time at Hogwarts we will provide the necessary resources needed for you to control and tame your magic both physically and emotionally. But be warmed, after you get your wand," She neatly drew a long thing stick from her within the sleeve of her arm and showed it to him briefly before replacing it. "Magic outside of school grounds is strictly prohibited. That is the law." She said firmly.

Hadrian nodded.

For a moment, the room was quiet; Professor McGonagall had taken a moment to have a sip of her tea whilst Hadrian's mind whirled it's self in to a frenzy, rapidly taking in as much as possible. The amount of questions in his mind had not reduced, if any thing it had increased, questions constantly spawning from one to the other.

One stood out in particular.

"These things," Hadrian held up the longer of the two letters, scanning it lightly as he continued. "How will I be able to get them?"

Professor McGonagall must have been expecting a question of a similar nature; she quickly reached to the side of her chair - Hadrian briefly saw a brown bag - and pulled out a plump cloth pouch as well as a small gold key.

"Hogwarts has a fund designed for students who happen to find them self's in need of financial support such as your self." Handing over the pouch to Hadrian, she continued. "That will sufficiently cover your school equipment."

She then passed the small key to Hadrian who cautiously took it. "This is your Gringotts key, which will provide access to your fund. It will receive an annual amount of funding from Hogwarts. Money in the wizarding world is different from muggle money. The gold ones are Galleons, Sickles are the silver ones and the tiny bronze ones are called Knuts. There are 17 sickles to a galleon and 29 knuts to a sickle." Examining the small key in his hand with a curious eye, Hadrian asked another question. "Where do I buy this stuff then?"

"Diagon Alley." She replied easily. "You will be able to buy every thing you need there. The entrance to it is through a Pub in London called the Leaky Cauldron. You'll notice it - though muggles are unable to see it. Just ask from Tom the Barman and he'll let you in to the Alley."

Hadrian nodded. "And how do I get to this, Hogwarts." He hesitated for a moment, the name sounding foreign on his tongue.

"You should find a train ticket in your envelope- yes that's the one - which you will need to get on to the train. You will leave from platform nine and three quarters at King's Cross Station on the first of September."

"Nine and three quarters?" "Yes, you will need to run through a wall to get on to the station, one of the columns between platforms nine and ten."

Rather bewildered, Hadrian nodded. Professor McGonagall got to her feet and again presented her hand to him. Hadrian took it and shook her hand firmly before she retreated to the door.

Before leaving she turned around. "Good bye Mr Faye, I look forward to seeing you at Hogwarts." And with a final nod she opened the door and swept through, leaving Hadrian alone in the room with a bag of foreign money, two letters and a train ticket, and a world of queries.

**~{Chains}~**

Day quickly turned in to night.

By nine o'clock that evening the majority of the younger children had already been put to bed and those old enough to not be limited by a bed time had already been ushered in to their quarters. The situation of the adults was also similar; the large majority of them had retreated to the teacher's common room and were indulging in their nightly routines - gossip and alcohol.

Having slept so late in to the day, Hadrian felt wide awake and untouched by even the smallest sense of somnolence. Tucked away in another corner of the library, he was sat in a large, regal armchair that made him appear even smaller than he was, his legs folded beneath him and his back slouched as he leaned forward.

In his hands was a large fat galleon. Hadrian traced the symbols that lined the rims of the coin and the great large one in the middle. Since Professor McGonagall had left, he had read the letters several more times and each time his excitement had grown. He had then loosened the cloth pouch and peered in side of it, finding a new source of enthralment as he marvelled at the coins, especially the large gold galleons. Despite only knowing about it's existence for a number of hours, he was eager to integrate him self in to the wizarding world.

Never before had Hadrian looked so forward and eager to a Monday.

Shortly after the appointment had ended, Hadrian had wasted no time in finding Mrs Thristle who had been situated busily behind her desk. Convincing her to allow him to venture in to London alone and chaperoned had been hard but she had eventually caved. However, she had been stubborn about the date of his trip to London and for how long it would last. However, the best offer that Hadrian had managed to pull from her was the following Monday and, much to Hadrian's dismay, that was a grand total of four days away.

Monday most certainly could not come soon enough.

**~{Chains}~**

As if mocking him, the remaining days of the week passed slowly and tediously, with the hours of the days slowly bleeding in to one another and little to nothing happening that was worth mentioning or remembering. However, the aridity of the passing days seemed to only make the approaching Monday all the more exciting.

There fore, he felt more than a little bit cheated as he stood in the building Professor McGonagall had labelled 'The Leaky Cauldron' and examined the pub's inner décor distastefully.

The Leaky Cauldron was, in a few words, very dark - it was barely lit; Hadrian could barely make out the features of people occupying the room - and honestly the shadiest place Hadrian had ever seen. He could just make out the figure of a tall, pipe-like women surrounded by small, murky shot glasses, downing one after the other. In another corner, a much shorter and plumper looking woman was smoking from a long pipe. At the bar, a woman wearing a pointy hat lopsidedly was grinning, hiccupping and giggling like a mad woman whilst talking to the old barman, who was quite bald and resembled a walnut quite closely.

For a few moments, Hadrian stood there and vaguely entertained the idea of walking out and pretending the meeting with Professor McGonagall had never happened when the balding barman caught sight of him.

He waved a dirty rag at Hadrian. "You alright there sonny?" His words were slurred and dense, sounding almost drunk to Hadrian despite his sober appearance. "Need some help or some 'in?"

"I was told I could get to Diagon Alley through here and to ask for a Tom?" Hadrian questioned, carefully moving through the sea of people so not to touch them.

A light appeared in the barman's eyes as he set down the rag and glass he had been 'cleaning'.

"Ah - and who told you that?"

"Professor McGonagall."

"Ah! Haven't seen her in a while." The bar man said as moved from behind the bar. "Must have been- oh, I'd say four months since I last saw her. So, you goin' to shop for Hogwarts?"

Hadrian nodded curtly.

"Well come on then, to the back we go." He exuberantly said, "Just let me tell Grace and I'll let you through."

The barman side stepped Hadrian and threw himself up against the bar, almost throwing him self over. He twisted his head towards the unevenly steep stairs beside the bar and shouted, "Grace! Grace!"

Hadrian flinched discreetly as he heard several objects - must likely pots and pans - clatter. A soft bump followed.

Eventually, a woman emerged from the door and hastily closed it behind her, before flying down the stairs, looking more than a little bit flustered. She was a tall, curvy women, taller then the bar man by about two heads, with a shock of vivid red hair that was messily pinned back and was even more startling against her pale skin.

"Ay-up Tom." She greeted cheerfully, quickly tying her apron around her waist. "Problem?"

"Yeah, my employee's sleepin' on the job!" He boomed good naturedly. "Too many drinks last night ey?"

The women laughed sheepishly in return. "Ha! You know how it is ol' Tommy-boy."

Throwing his head back as he gave out a great laugh, Tom grabbed the rag off of the bar and threw it at Grace who caught it as it fell from hitting her in the face.

"Well, at least make sure the money is put where it should be put and not in your pocket."

Grace just winked.

Hastily, Hadrian followed Tom as they weaved through the chairs and tables, occasionally stopping for a minute when ever Tom felt like chatting. Eventually, they made it out of the bar and out in to a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but three brim filled dust bins and numerous patches of weeds.

Hadrian glanced around for a moment before looking back at Tom sceptically; Tom just grinned.

Pulling out a long, jagged twig, Tom tapped the wall with it three times.

Before Hadrian's sceptical eyes, the brick Tom's wand had touched quivered.

Then it wiggled.

A small gap hole appeared in the middle, which steadily grew larger and larger until an arch had formed that could have easily permitted a man of seven feet with no problems. Beyond the arch, a coddled street appeared that twisted and turned out of sight.

"Here you go lad." Tom exclaimed. "Diagon Alley."

If Hadrian had been disappointed earlier when he had stepped in to the Leaky Cauldron, the sight before him most certainly made up for it.

Shops lined the winding cobbled road, leaving few small gaps between every so many shops that twisted in to it's own coddled street. Each shop that Hadrian could see was uniquely different from it's surrounding neighbours. To his left, a shop was framed by an arch of small cauldrons with several larger cauldrons littered and stacked around it. On his right, a vivaciously decorated shop with a sweet smelling aroma was bursting with customers, all pretty youths.

Enraptured by the sight in front of him, Hadrian's eye's widened slightly when he unexpectedly felt Tom's rough, laboured hand fall heavily on his shoulder, clasping it firmly in what Hadrian guessed was a friendly gesture. Hadrian viciously fought down the urge to break him - he did not like been startled.

"Imma gonna go back inside now kiddo, so," Tom patted his shoulders, "take care!" He stepped back in to the small courtyard, completely unaffected as the arch re-bricked it's self, once again forming a solid aged brick wall.

Hadrian stared for a moment, and then turned his attention back to the street.

With in moments he was walking curiously along the cobbled street, taking his time to glance at every shop he passed by on either side, painfully aware of the fact that he stuck out. His black shorts, long sleeved white shirt and green waistcoat were a far cry from the clothing's worn by the surrounding cloud; He spotted several older women donning similar cape like robes.

He came to a halt in front of a tall white building that split the winding street in to two lesser roads and towered over the near by shops. Columns lined the edge of the building, permanently stuck between the pavement and the above floor. Printed on the front of the building was the name 'GRINGOTTS' which Hadrian narrowed his eyes at. Professor McGonagall had mentioned that name - she had referred to it as a bank.

As he watched the families entering and leaving the building, Hadrian noted that the pouch of wizarding money he had been marvelling at for the past few days had grown heavier, its presence suddenly more noticeable. The weight reminded Hadrian of his painful lack of assets.

Despite the fact that Hadrian knew he had no business in the grand building, he felt an inexplicable pull towards its multiple entrances. He battled it for a moment - he only had a few hours after all - but eventually decided a quick look around wouldn't be a problem.

From the cobbled pavement, Hadrian followed the marble stairs which ended at the foot of open burnished bronze doors. Standing on either sides of each door, was a shot, wrinkled creature - roughly two head's shorter than Hadrian, wearing uniforms of gold and ruby. As he past, Hadrian stole a quick glance at the creature to his left. He quickly noted a sharp, clever looking face and a pointed beard; his fingers and feet were noticeably long with nails that were painfully sharp.

Hadrian felt a slight head ache approaching.

Shaking his head, Hadrian passed through the bronze doors and stepped in to a small entrance hall, flanked with several other creatures, some more severe looking then others, before another, larger silver door. With narrowed eyes, Hadrian scanned the scripted words engraved on them.

**~*C*~**

_Enter, stranger, but take heed  
Of what awaits the sin of greed  
For those who take, but do not earn,  
Must pay most dearly in their turn.  
So if you seek beneath our floors  
A treasure that was never yours,  
Thief, you have been warned, beware  
Of finding more than treasure there._

**~*C*~**

Hadrian felt his eye brow arch as the corresponding corner of his lips lifted in to a smirk as he scanned the short passage; how intriguing.

As he approached the silver doors, whether by magic or one of the creatures, they slowly crept open, revealing a larger, grander marble hall stationed with numerous marble counter behind which sat more of the creatures, though they appeared more sophisticated than their brethren. Wax candles along the walls and above on chandeliers lit the hall up like an Italian summer's day.

Lines of people trailed from the counters, with some crowding at the back in what a appeared to Hadrian to be social circles.

Accompanied by an inexplicable pull, Hadrian attention was turned to one of the more rambunctious groups that were situated on the far side of the room, containing a sea of red heads along with three dark haired males. With in moments of watching the group, the family of red heads - pertaining one - moved away towards another door where one of the creature's stood impatiently, leaving a female and the three dark haired males, one who appeared to be his age.

Even from a distance, Hadrian could see the startling resemblance between the boy and one of the males. Both had tall, lanky builds and dark, almost black hair that appeared to have never been touched by a comb. Judging by the boy's softer features and the man's arm around the female, Hadrian quickly deduced they were a family - with the other male being a friend of the family.

Stepping forward towards them, Hadrian blinked hard as he felt his head sting and resumed his analyse of the now smaller group.

The other male was taller than all of his companions, with wavy black hair and light grey eyes, his hands gestured adventurously and flamboyantly as he recounted some thing to the others; his face was lit with childish glee, though his numerous laugh lines did nothing to distort his aristocratic features.

Hadrian thought he looked familiar.

Moving his gaze from the man, he focused his attentions on to the sole remaining female of the group. While at a distance from the group earlier, Hadrian had thought her to be apart of the family of red heads, but as he got closer, he could see the subtle differences. She was tall, but not as tall as the other red heads, and her hair was more of a crimson shade whilst the family had all had fiery orange hair. As Hadrian continued closer, he also noted that while she had been pretty from a distance, with a curvy figure and vibrant hair, closer up she appeared to be more ragged then others in her group. Her skin was washed out, her face tired and her eyes were a cynically jaded. From where he stood, Hadrian could just make out a stark white scar trailing from her left temple to the corner of her mouth-

_Aaahh! _Hadrian gasped breathlessly as his head began to throb mercilessly. Beneath him, Hadrian struggled to stay up right as his knees buckled under imaginary pressure.

Pressing his palm to his forehead, Hadrian urgently escaped back through the silver doors, through the entrance hall and out through the bronze doors, flying down the stairs into Diagon Alley. He ran along the cobbled street for a few minutes before ducking in to a small alley way between a small bookshop and a robe shop, where he finally stopped, pressing his forehead.

_ What the hell. _Hadrian thought to him self. His head ache had numbed to nothing more then a dull throb and was becoming less and less noticeable. Reaching up, he ran his hand through his hair, frustrated, as he composed him self, pulling at his collar and dusting his shorts.

Pushing everything in to the back of his mind, Hadrian reached in to his pocket and drew out the letters that listed his school equipment. Quickly reading the list of books, Hadrian wandered out of the alley way, trailing leisurely towards the large book store he had noticed whilst walking towards Gringotts.

Flourish and Blotts was a busy store, evident from the amount of people rushing both in and out of it. As he stepped in to the shop, Hadrian stopped for a moment to marvel at the numerous books and tomes that layered the shop walls and were piled upon tables in several areas of the room.

Again, he looked at his list. "Standard book of spells... hmm." He murmured.

Looking at the shelves on his left, Hadrian quickly found signs protruding from several of the bookcases. One of which read 'STANDARD BOOK OF SPELLS GRADE'S 1-7'.

Weaving through the people and precariously stationed tables piled with books and such, Hadrian made it in front of the shelves and scanned over the bindings, quickly glancing at their grades.

"4...3...2... Ah! Grade 1." He whispered triumphantly. The book was reasonable thick, black and decorated with a simple rectangular pattern which the title of the book circled around.

However, looking at the price labelled on the shelve that he had taken the book from, Hadrian felt his stomach drop, his heat thump, his mouth dry and his eye brows furrow.

The cloth pouch in his pocket couldn't have felt any heavier.

**~{Chains}~**

**I'm sorry this took a while, but I'm rather happy with how it turned out. Originally I wanted to post it on Monday, but some things came up. First, the silly head teacher at my grammar school decided it would be nice to do internal exams – it wasn't. Second, and this reason is entirely selfish I know, I finally convinced my dad to buy me Assassin's Creed Revelations and I spent two days and a half playing the main plot and just because I felt like it I played through Assassin's Creed II for the second time and I've just finished Sequence One on Assassin's Creed Brotherhood for the second time. As you can see, I quite like Assassin's Creed.**

**Also, I'm in a group that putting on a performance of Ragtime, so I'm busy learning lines and songs. Hope you liked this chapter, please feel free to review. I'm not going to lie, I really like reviews and seeing the 'unread email' sign on my phone makes me giddy. Reading them really helps keep me motivated.**

**Finally, just to make this clear, this will not be a short fic. It kind of freaks me out how long I will probably spend writing this entire story, because like I said before, this plot bunny is massive (!) and will span over several years – at least right through to year seven. Though I will probably skip through certain bits other wise this story would. Be. Huge!**

**Again, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks for reading. **


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